


Blood Tinged Pride

by redlotuspavilion (CaptainAmelia22)



Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)
Genre: Adorable Juniors being adorable, Canon Typical Violence, Grappling with past relationships, M/M, Night Hunts gone wrong, Soft Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Twin Prides Back at It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/redlotuspavilion
Summary: Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian accompany the Juniors on what should be a simple Night Hunt. But then shit goes sideways and the brothers step in to save the Juniors. Meanwhile, the Juniors have their minds absolutely blown because there is nothing quite like the Twin Prides of Yunmeng fighting alongside each other.
Relationships: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 457





	Blood Tinged Pride

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this "prompt" on Twitter the moment I woke up this morning and I just had to write a bit. Nothing super serious or hardcore. Just some drabble that made me happy! hope you guys like it! 
> 
> https://twitter.com/mintgreenbutton/status/1309507165380468736

One thing Wei Wuxian has forgotten over the past fifteen or so years is how well he and his brother fight together.

Once, they were flawless. Once, they would simply have to share a brief glance and then they’d be flowing into their sword patterns Madam Yu had drilled into them since they were old enough to cultivate.

Once.

One they were brothers, in arms and in bond.

But that was well over twenty years ago and one of them has died and come back in a body much different than his old form. One of them has lost a Golden Core and then, against all odds gained another’s.

Now.

_Now._

Are they strangers, now?

“Stop egging the bitch on!” Jiang Cheng pants, Sandu raised in a defensive maneuver as he tries to maintain his stance between the Juniors and the blood stained banshee they’d infuriated. Wei Wuxian can barely make him out across the clearing, but he knows his shidi is there. He can hear Zidian snapping. He can hear the sound of Sandu whistling as his brother spins and strikes yet another risen corpse firmly in the head.

“I’m not,” Wei Wuxian snarls. There is no laughter in his voice. There is no teasing.

There’s just breathless terror.

Worry for the children. His son. His nephew.

Their friends.

“How did they even find her,” Jiang Cheng hisses, spinning Sandu and shoving the tip deep within the chest of a thrall when it gets too close. “There was no news of a powerful vengeful spirit like this!”

The banshee shrieks as she’s dragged back by gold limned tendrils of resentful energy and grappled by Chenqing’s song. Jiang Cheng grunts when Wei Wuxian slips up to him, taking point at his back when more sullen growls and groans and creaking bones begin to sound through the dark forest.

“They disturbed her resting place,” Wei Wuxian says, darting forward to strike at a zombie when its dead eyes settle on the crumpled Juniors. “Fuck. We need to get the kids out of here Jiang Cheng. There’s too many of them. I can wrangle them but it’s going to take a lot of resentful energy. And…”

He trails off and both men grunt when the banshee shrieks and darts with unnatural speed towards them, and swipes her blood red claws at their faces.

They duck and spin in time, movements fluid and easy despite the time between them. Despite the enmity. The bad blood. The strange, new body. They move in time and each strike they make at the drooling, blank eyed banshee is fluid. Economical.

Easy.

They settle into their old forms. Their old positions.

And for the first time in two decades, the Twin Prides of Yunmeng fight together.

As one.

It’s almost too easy.

Which is, of course, the sign that something truly fucked up is about to happen.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng breathes, when he sees those bloodred claws slash through his brother’s chest, shredding robes and skin as easily as one might shred rice paper. Wei Wuxian gasps, his eyes flying wide, and blood begins to pour from his mouth and nose as his knees give out. Chenqing tumbles from weakened, stunned fingers and the banshee’s lips curl in a dangerous sneer that reveals her bloodied, pointed teeth.

_Fuck._

_“Wei Wuxian!”_

**

It’s supposed to be a simple night hunt.

There’s a few walking corpses wandering about an ancient graveyard and slipping past its boundaries to pester the village down below the hill.

It’s pretty standard stuff, or so Jin Ling thinks.

“Jiang Cheng and I will be close-by if you need any help!”

Wei Wuxian is twirling his stupid flute, a grin curling his stupid lips and making his stupid eyes crinkle at the corners. The wind teases at the stupid red ribbon he wears and Jin Ling groans.

“Why are you two coming?” he grumbles, blushing when Sizhui glances at him and smiles serenely, before turning back to JingYi and Zizhen. “We can handle a few corpses. We’re not babies.”

Wei Wuxian just chuckles and reaches over to ruffle his hair. Jin Ling is as tall as his most idiotic uncle now. It’s kind of unsettling. But he still has a ways to go compared to Jiang Cheng. And he knows he’ll never be as tall as Hanguang-Jun.

He sighs and reaches up to straighten his hair and the golden decorations he wears that Wei Wuxian seems to take a sick glee in disrupting.

“Is your h-husb-Is Hanguang-Jun coming too?” he stammers, blushing when Wei Wuxian arches a brow at his stutter and his grey eyes start to sparkle with glee.

“Nah, not this time,” Wei Wuxian says, chuckling as he throws his arm over Jin Ling’s shoulder and pulls him close into his slender, black-clad body. “He wants me to spend time with my favorite nephew before he has to ascend to the righteous spot as sect leader of LanlingJin.” He sniffs melodramatically, ignoring Jin Ling’s muttered, I’m your only nephew.

Jin Ling may put on a show of disdain for Wei Wuxian but part of him warms at the idle touches the other man aims at him. He had always thought he was much like his jiujiu. Jiang Cheng loathed being touched-with good reason, Jin Ling knows-and Jin Ling is used to not being hugged or having his hair messed with at random points throughout his day.

Until now.

“Ugh,” he groans, blush deepening when he finds himself leaning into Wei Wuxian’s side. His chest warms when his uncle’s arm tightens around his shoulder. Wei Wuxian laughs softly, his chest vibrating. And Jin Ling groans internally. He can imagine the smugness in his senior’s gaze.

“Let go of me,” he mutters, breaking free of Wei Wuxian’s embrace and darts to Sizhui’s side.

“Little turnip,” Wei Wuxian calls, lips curled in a soft smile when his son turns to him and smiles back. “Are you lot ready? We’re meeting Jiang Cheng in Caiyi. I’m sure he’s already irritated by the lateness of the hour.”

Sizhui bows shallowly, hands raised in a small salute and he glances at his friends, who all nod. “We are ready, I believe, Senior Wei. Shall we depart?”

“Let’s go!” Wei Wuxian sing-songs, catching up Little Apple’s reins and beginning the arduous process of dragging the dumb donkey towards the front gates of Cloud Recesses.

Jin Ling sighs again, mentally bracing for a long couple of nights with his stupid-brilliant-uncle.

“It’ll be fine,” Sizhui murmurs at his side, pulling an apple from his sleeves and tossing it to JingYi, who grins and darts up to Little Apple and offers the grumpy beast the fruit. “Relax Jin Ling. Senior Wei just wants to make sure we’re safe.”

Jin Ling rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, waving his hand dismissively. “I know. He’s just...annoying.”

“Mn,” Sizhui hums, hiding a soft smile behind his sleeve. His grey eyes sparkle with laughter and Jin Ling groans.

“Ass,” he mutters, shoving his elbow into his best friend’s side, grinning when Sizhui starts to laugh outright.

**

The inn is bustling this late in the evening. There are waiters darting about, their arms laden with trays full of steaming food and bottles of wine. There are clients laughing and teasing their table companions, their voices steadily growing louder as the wine truly begins to flow.

It is a bright, warm, cheerful sight.

Except for one tucked away corner of the inn, where a tall man clothed in fine purple robes sits, his fingers steadily tapping upon the sheathed blade placed across his table in silent warning.

His hair is bound in a tight bun atop his head, braids twining about his temples to circle the elegant lotus crown he wears. Violet eye spark with irritation, imitating the dancing energy sparking from the ring he wears on his right hand. That smoldering gaze never leaves the inn’s front door.

A muscle jumps in the man’s tight, shelf-like jaw. And if the sound of the tavern wasn’t so overwhelming, it’s not hard to imagine the sound of grinding teeth issuing from the elegant man.

Everyone avoids his table after the third time he snarls wordlessly at an innocent waiter, eager to serve.

Fingers tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

And the ring sparks in time with the irritated movements.

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng snarls under his breath, eyes narrowing. “Where the fuck are you?”

The idle chatter of the table behind him catches his attention, dragging him away from the constant irritation of Wei Wuxian and his chronic lateness.

“...They say the corpses that come down from the Chang graveyard are extremely fierce,” a man murmurs, his voice pitched low. Jiang Cheng’s head turns just enough so he can watch the man and his companions from the corner of his eye. Three men lean against the table, necks craned towards the gossip. They’re clothed in plain robes-obviously common folk. But Jiang Cheng doesn’t ignore the gossip’s words. There’s always a grain of truth in the stories.

“The corpses appear on the new moon,” the man continues after taking a long sip of his wine. “Hordes of them. They move so fast, no man can outrun them. They’ve snatched up children and dogs. Maids walking home at night. Some rogue cultivators came to try and eradicate them but they went out and never returned. Something evil lingers in the Chang cemetery. Something _powerful_.”

The man’s friends all nod sagely, drinking deep of their Emperor’s Smile.

“It’s the Yiling Patriarch,” one of them mutters, his words slurring a bit. “He’s taken up residence in Cloud Recesses you know. Warming the bed of that Hanguang-Jun. He-he-hic-he’s a cutsleeve and he’s always playing with dead things. I know he does. I’ve-I’ve seen him, you know!”

Jiang Cheng’s ears echoes with the idiot’s words, something hot and bitter twining in his belly and his fingers clench tight upon his sword. He barely notices half-rising before a familiar voice calls his name and he sighs, eyes closing in irritation.

“Jiang Cheng! What are you doing, lingering in this tavern?!”

The very devil he’d just been about to defend, drops into the empty chair across from Jiang Cheng and he sighs.

“Wei Wuxian,” he snaps, taking his own seat once more and he levels a furious finger in his idiot brother’s face. “You’re late.”

He smirks internally at the stunned silence of the table at his back and Wei Wuxian arches a brow, tapping the finger in his face with the end of Chenqing.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, waving the flute in idle apology. “We were waiting for Zizhen. He was running late from a punishment the Old Man placed on him.”

Jiang Cheng sighs again and glances around. “Where are the brats, by the way?” he asks, eyes narrowing when Wei Wuxian waves a waiter over and asks for a jar of wine.

“Hm?” Wei Wuxian hums distractedly. Jiang Cheng’s fingers tap once upon Sandu’s sheathe and he jumps. “Oh-oh! They’re outside with Little Apple, getting some extra supplies and Sizhui is chatting with some aunties for more information on the cemetery.”

He taps the flute against his lips and stares into the middle distance.

“No,” Jiang Cheng snaps, reaching out to smack his idiot brother’s head. “Stop it.” He rises, ignoring the indignant splutters of Wei Wuxian and begins making his way through the tavern.

“Stop what?” his brother calls, cradling his jar of wine and tucking the flute in the back of his belt. “Why did you smack me? Jiang Cheng!”

“I know that look,” Jiang Cheng snaps, coming to a stop as they step onto the shadowed porch of the inn and turning to face his idiot brother. “You are not talking to any of the dead things in that graveyard.” He pokes Wei Wuxian’s chest and sneers. “You are not summoning spirits. You are not playing any of your dumb crooked games. We are simply here to back the brats up. That’s it, Wei Wuxian. None of your stupid schemes.”

Wei Wuxian raises his hands in a placating gesture, the smile slipping from his lips and his eyes spark dangerously for a moment, seeming to shine red in the half-light.

And then he chuckles.

“Okay, okay Jiang Cheng,” he says, reaching out to pat his younger brother’s shoulder. “No games from me. I swear. Just sit back and watch the kids and make sure Jin Ling doesn’t do something stupid. Got it.”

“You!” Jiang Cheng snaps when Wei Wuxian darts past him, laughing and makes his way to the cluster of juniors and his donkey.

Jiang Cheng sighs, eyes closing as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

 _Why did I agree to supervise this night hunt with Wei Wuxian of all people,_ he thinks to himself, before making his way across the yard towards his nephew and his friends. _I am already getting a headache…_

“Let’s get moving,” he snaps to the kids. “You’re making us late. I should break all of your legs.”

He ignores the small smile Sizhui hides in his sleeves and the brilliant grins JingYi and Zizhen share before they dart off after Wei Wuxian and his donkey.

Jin Ling is the only one who shifts uncomfortably, his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth as he glances from Jiang Cheng to Wei Wuxian.

“Jiujiu?” he murmurs as they begin to follow the others. “Are you going to be okay with...with him?”

Zidian sparks once upon his finger and he sighs, glancing at his nephew from the corner of his eye.

“It’ll be fine, A-Ling,” he says, his voice softer than normal. “You just focus on the hunt. Wei Wuxian and I…” He trails off, his eyes drifting to rest upon the narrow shoulders of his brother.

“If we stay out of each other’s way, we’ll be fine,” he finishes, something in his chest aching at the words he utters. They leave a bitter taste on his tongue.

HIs fingers tighten upon the hilt of his sword and something whispers along the edge of his mind.

_You should give A-Xian a chance, A-Cheng._

He shakes Jiang Yanli’s voice from his head and reaches out to smack his nephew’s head lightly.

“Stop being distracted by Wei Wuxian,” he barks, ignoring Jin Ling’s sputtered protests. “You have corpses to fight tonight!”

The rest of the journey is full of the sound of the juniors’ teasing and Wei Wuxian’s flute trilling.

Jiang Cheng tries to not find comfort in the easy laughter or his brother’s cheerful smiles.

Tries.

_Fails._

_Damn you, Wei Wuxian._

**

The first sign that this night hunt has gone to shit is the moment JingYi is tossed bonelessly into a tree and crumples, blood streaming from his nose with the force of the blow the corpse had landed on him.

“JingYi!” Sizhui and Zizhen shout, horrified at the sight of their best friend’s still form. They do not move though, their backs pressed together and their swords swinging in perfect timing as they take on the never-ending stream of corpses. A bow string twangs from one of the trees overhead, the banshee they’d stumbled across hissing and shrieking as her ragged blood red gown is pinned over and over to the muddy, overturned grave dirt they fight upon.

“Don’t move!” Sizhui yells to Zizhen when he feels his friend start to break their formation. “We can’t go to him yet! We have to fight this wave back!”

“How?!” Zizhen shouts back, his voice going ragged. “They’re not stopping! Where did they come from?! Where did that-that-thing come from? Where are the seniors?!”

The sound of his father’s flute is faded, distant. Sect Leader Jiang and Senior Wei had set them off on this night hunt with reassuring words of encouragement. They’d told the boys they would be close in case they needed help but that they wouldn’t get involved unless asked.

Sizhui wonders briefly if they’d run into trouble too.

“I don’t know Zizhen,” he pants, swinging his sword in a complicated arc that Wei Wuxian had taught him and he bares his teeth in a fierce snarl when the corpse clawing at his face crumples. “Maybe there are multiple sets of corpses?”

The banshee shrieks, her head shooting back with the force of the arrow that strikes her right between the eyes.

“Well, we could do with some help,” Zizhen pants, talisman flashing from his fingers to strike a set of corpses getting too close. The flash of flames is warm, brilliant in the gloaming and Sizhui sucks in a deep breath when the talisman shows just how truly fucked they are.

“We can’t keep this up forever!” Jin Ling shouts, darting from his perch to the tree JingYi had struck and dropping over his friend to take up a defensive stance over the other boy. “Sizhui, you better call it! We need Wei Wuxian and jiujiu-”

His words are cut off with a sickening crunch and a liquidy gasp. Sizhui screams his name, his eyes wide as he takes in the sight of his best friend spraying blood, his shocked gaze falling to the corpse hand emerging from his shoulder.

“Fuck!” Zizhen snarls and they break formation to rush over to Jin Ling. Corpse claws rip their robes, their hair, their weapons. Neither boy pays them that much attention, simply striking where and when they can.

“Jin Ling!” Sizhui screams, reaching out to catch his best friend’s bloodied form in his arms as the other boy’s knees buckle. “Hold on! We’ll get Wei Wuxian! Just hold on!”

The sound of the banshee shrieking and giggling fills the graveyard, all of the fine hairs on Sizhui’s arms rising in horror when he glances up and sees those black eyes settle upon them.

She begins to make her way to them, blood red gown rippling in a nonexistent wind, her movements stuttering but unearthly quick. And Sizhui’s arms tighten around Jin Ling’s shoulders, pulling the other boy tight against his chest.

“Get away!” Zizhen shouts sliding into place between them and the undead bride. “Fuck off!”

His sword trembles once, but then he squares his shoulders, baring his teeth in a snarl and he darts forward, swinging his sword at the banshee.

She giggles, darting forward with her strange, stuttering movements and Sizhui’s blood runs cold when her blood red claws lengthen and flash towards Zizhen’s face.

Zizhen’s sword flashes, spins in an expert movement Sizhui recognizes from one of Hanguang-Jun’s lessons. He feels a brief moment of pride for his friend but then the banshee hisses and takes a swipe at his feet, knocking Zizhen to his knees and Sizhui groans.

_This is it. This is it, we’re dying here. Tonight. Right now._

His thoughts are interrupted in that moment by the sharp song of a flute. Followed by the familiar sound of a whip cracking.

And the banshee’s screams turn from triumphant, to furious.

“Hello gorgeous,” a voice calls, fierce laughter underlining the words. “How about you take a bite out of something much prettier than a bunch of teens, eh?”

“Wei Wuxian! Shut up!”

Sizhui glances up from Jin Ling’s bloodied face and his eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him.

Wei Wuxian stands before them, over Zizhen whose chest heaves in obvious panic, Chenqing raised to his lips. The tassel streams around him. Black and gold energy ribbons about his feet, his hair, the rippling hems of his robes.

Zidian sparks, its tip flicking out to strike at the banshee skittering low to the ground now, her red gown pooling about her pale, bony limbs.

The two move as one, Chenqing’s song singing in time with Zidian’s crackling energy and Sizhui’s mouth gapes at the sight of the brothers moving in sync. It is a foreign sight, something out of the legends.

The Twin Prides of Yunmeng fight with an efficiency, a brutality, that makes him shiver.

Chenqing twirls and whistles with each wicked block Wei Wuxian levels at corpses as they draw closer and Sizhui turns his attention to his friends. Placing his fingers first upon JingYi’s pulsepoint and then Jin Ling, he sucks in a deep breath. Their Cores waver, their bodies flagging with blood loss.

And he bites his lip, glancing at the seniors fighting in perfect synchrony now, before placing two fingers upon the brows of both Jin Ling and JingYi.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, and begins to funnel spiritual energy into the still forms of his friends.

 _Hold on,_ he thinks silently, turning his mind away from the gruesome sounds of battle in the clearing. His figure wavers ever so slightly at the drain. They’d been fighting for hours, they’d already begun to lose too much strength.

But.

But he was the only one left standing.

“Don’t leave me yet,” he whispers to his friends, winging a silent prayer that he’ll have enough energy to stabilize Jin Ling and JingYi. Zizhen finally regains his feet and scrambles away from the battling brothers and the banshee, his eyes wide as he takes up a protective stance in front of Sizhui and their unconscious friends.

“Holy shit, Sizhui,” Zizhen breathes. “Look at them. Have you ever seen anyone fight like that? Other than Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei, of course? Holy shit.”

“Shh, Zizhen,” Sizhui scolds, taking a moment to glance in the direction of his father and Sect Leader Jiang. “Watch my back for now. Don’t get distracted.”

“Yeah,” Zizhen says, grip tightening on his sword and his body weaving a bit in time with the flowing movements of the seniors’ forms. “Damn. I want to train in Lotus Pier. Oh! Good hit!”

Sizhui’s lips curl in a shaking smile for a moment. But then he settles into a meditative state, focusing on the stream of energy split two ways.

He focuses.

He does not hear Sect Leader Jiang scream his father’s name.

He does not hear the banshee screech in victory, her claws dug deep within Wei Wuxian’s chest.

He doesn’t see Chenqing fall from pale, bloodied fingers.

He doesn’t see.

**

The infirmary is quiet. Peaceful.

Jin Ling hates it.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he snaps to the healer, a scowl twisting his fine features when the man ignores him and continues winding a fresh bandage about the wound in his shoulder. “Honestly. Can’t I take a walk and check on the others?”

The healer shakes his head, bangs brushing over the ribbon he wears about his forehead and he presses a little too pointedly against Jin Ling’s shoulder, making the teen gasp.

“Still too weak, young master,” he says, his voice mellow and soft. “One more day of bed rest. Then, you can see your friends.”

Jin Ling huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, wincing when the movement twinges the bandaged wound. The healer rolls his eyes and rises, beginning to pack up the bandages and poultice set just to the side of Jin Ling’s bed.

The boy nibbles his bottom lip for a moment before reaching out to catch the man’s sleeve.

“Is-is Wei Wuxian awake yet?” he asks, his voice cracking on his second uncle’s name.

The healer hesitates in the doorway, his eyes shadowed in the lantern light and he sighs.

“Do not worry for Senior Wei, young master Jin,” he says. “He is being cared for with the utmost diligence. He will wake when his body is ready.”

Jin Ling sighs, slouching back against the pillows of his bed and nods. “Yeah,” he says, turning his gaze from the older man to the blankets in his lap. “Yeah, I guess.”

The door slides closed a moment later, leaving him to his thoughts.

To his memories.

He can still remember the corpse’s fist pushing through his shoulder and chest. Can still remember the fire-hot pain of bone crushing and splintering, of muscle tearing around rotting fingers. He can still remember the taste of blood on his tongue.

That’s something he knows he’ll never forget.

But it’s not what he focuses on now. His eyes drift over the dancing flames of the candles beside his bed and he touches the foggy memories of that night. He had slipped in and out of consciousness, once his body had collapsed. He can remember Sizhui kneeling over him, pressing his fingers to his forehead and sending energy into his Golden Core.

He can remember Sizhui whispering his and JingYi’s name.

He can remember the sight of Wei Wuxian and his jiujiu fighting together.

Purple and black robes spinning in tandem, booted feet twisting in the dirt in a complicated battle rhythm that had seemed more like a dance than a fight. Chenqing raised to ward off a blow meant for Jiang Cheng’s head. Zidian snapping at the banshee as she’d reached her claws towards Wei Wuxian’s feet.

He’s never seen his uncles fight alongside each other. Against, sure. Jiang Cheng had struck Wei Wuxian with Zidian so many times in the beginning Jin Ling had lost track. But the two of them _taking point together_? Like he and Sizhui did on instinct now? Like JingYi and Zizhen did as well?

Like Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian did when the need arose?

No.

No he’d never seen his uncles fight together.

He cups his chin in the palm of his intact hand and frowns, nibbling at his lip. He’d gotten so used to thinking Wei Wuxian was a moron. That he was good for nothing but unwanted hugs and disgusting innuendo at the worst times.

But…

But…

_But Wei Wuxian helped save us. Again._

He huffs, kicking the blankets free of his legs and carefully slips from the bed. He wavers the moment he rises, his vision cartwheeling in a sickening fashion that leaves black spots dancing in his eyes and he gasps, pressing his hand to his forehead for a moment.

Then, with grim determination, he sidles up to the door and slides it open as silently as he can.

The hallway his room is in is empty, thankfully. It’s quiet-like Cloud Recesses always is once curfew hits-and he slips from the room in his stocking feet, making his way further into the infirmary where he thinks the more critical patients may be kept.

There’s one door near the end of the hall that’s closed, the faint light of candles filtering through the gap at its base. He hurries to the door, pressing his ear to hear if anyone stirs within and he frowns when a familiar voice meets his ears.

“Wei Wuxian, I swear to all our ancestors that if you don’t open your eyes right now, I’ll kill you myself. Again.”

Jiang Cheng’s voice is hoarse, ragged. Jin Ling’s eyes widen in horror. He’d never heard his jiujiu sound so distraught. Even after he’d found out about the Core transfer.

His fingers clench upon the door and he contemplates running away, running to find Sizhui or the others.

But then his jiujiu starts talking again.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass, to you and to your husband,” Jiang Cheng says, his voice still rough but somewhat muffled now, as if he may be hiding in his sleeves. Which is just as boggling as the thought of his jiujiu possibly crying. “I...I miss you Wei Wuxian. Please...don’t leave me again.”

Before he can stop himself, Jin Ling throws the door to Wei Wuxian’s room open, rushing through the doorway to throw himself at his jiujiu.

“Don’t cry, jiujiu!” he yells, arms wrapping tight about the older man’s neck, their bodies colliding with such force Jiang Cheng nearly falls off his chair. Jin Ling buries his face in Jiang Cheng’s neck, the comforting scent of river water and lotuses washing over his nose and he can’t stop the tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t cry, please! It’s going to be okay! Wei Wuxian’s going to be okay, jiujiu!”

“Jin Ling,” Jiang Cheng breathes, his arms rising to instinctively wrap around the teenager’s waist. “What are you doing up?!”

Jin Ling can feel an unfamiliar wetness in his hair, can feel a cheek pressing up against his head and he takes a shuddering breath, trying to keep from sobbing.

“I’m sorry we were so stupid,” Jin Ling says, hiccuping against the tears still spilling down his face. He tucks himself tighter against Jiang Cheng’s neck, sniffling. “We were stupid. You should break my legs. We got-we got Wei Wuxian hurt. And JingYi and-and...I’m sorry.”

Jiang Cheng’s hand is shaking when he presses his palm against Jin Ling’s head and he sighs.

“It wasn’t your fault, A-Ling,” he says, his voice low and rough with some sort of emotion. “It was a shit situation and if it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine and Wei Wuxian’s. We didn’t do enough research and we set you lot loose without really finding out what the haunting was. I’m-I’m sorry.”

“I-” Jin Ling starts, pulling back enough to wipe his tear-swollen eyes. He barely has a chance to meet his uncle’s reddened gaze before someone chuckles at their side and a weary voice says, “Aw, Jiang Cheng hugging our little A-Ling. And all it took was me almost dying. That’s cute.”

Jiang Cheng snorts, rolling his eyes and Jin Ling scrambles up, furiously wiping his eyes now, cheeks flaring bright red in the candlelight.

“Shut up, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng says, no real heat in his words. And Wei Wuxian grins when the other man leans forward to pull him into a gentle hug. “You’re an ass,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, stroking Wei Wuxian’s hair for a moment as his older brother pats his back.

“I’m your favorite ass though, right?” Wei Wuxian breathes, cheeks pale as he is released and sags once more to his pillows. He winks at Jin Ling who simply snorts and rolls his eyes, a perfect imitation of his jiujiu. He glances around the room and frowns. “Where is my Lan Zhan?” he asks, pushing some tumbled hair back from his forehead. “And Sizhui and the other kids?”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth opens but he is stalled by the door sliding open once more and a low voice saying, “Here, Wei Ying.”

And Jin Ling looks up, meeting the bright-eyed gazes of Sizhui, JingYi and Zizhen, peering into the room from around Hanguang-Jun.

“Jin Ling! Senior Wei!” his friends shout, brushing past Lan WangJi to tackle Jin Ling in a flurry of hugs. “You’re awake!”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes once more, sharing a small smile with his brother as Lan WangJi steps into the room, carrying a tray with soup and tea upon it.

“Brats,” he mutters, shaking his head and accepting the cup Hanguang-Jun hands him.

“Mn,” Lan WangJi hums, his golden eyes soft as he perches at Wei Wuxian’s side and strokes his hair.

“S-sect Leader Jiang?”

Jiang Cheng glances up in surprise, his eyebrows arched when he catches sight of Ouyang Zizhen staring at him eagerly.

“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly aware of four sets of bright eyes settling upon him and Wei Wuxian. “What do you idiots want now?”

“Can-can we come to Lotus Pier and train with you and the Yunmeng disciples?” Zizhen blurts after sharing a glance with Sizhui and JingYi. “Please? We-uh-we saw the way you and Senior Wei fight together and it was-it was…” He trails off, cheeks reddening when Jiang Cheng begins to scowl and Zidian lets out a few sullen sparks. JingYi nudges him with his elbow and Zizhen squares his shoulders, glancing to where Wei Wuxian watches them, grinning into the tea cup Hanguang-Jun holds steady for him.

“It was definitely the coolest thing any of us have ever seen and it would be a great honor to train with you, sir!”

He falls into a very low bow, the Lan boys following suit and Jin Ling’s eyes widen as he stares at him from across his friend’s backs.

And Jiang Cheng sighs, leveling a stern finger at his brother’s beaming face.

“This is your fault, Wei Wuxian,” he snaps, his violet eyes sparking with unexpected laughter. “You gave the brats ideas.”

“Eh, I dunno Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says, waving his hand and grinning as he leans back against Lan WangJi. “Maybe the Twin Prides still have a few things to teach, hm?”

Jiang Cheng snorts, rolling his eyes but before he can truly protest, he meets Jin Ling’s eager gaze once more.

And he sighs.

“All of this, because you brats didn’t know how to subdue a ghost bride and some thralls,” he grumbles, placing his tea cup back upon the tray and rising with a flick of his robes. “Fine,” he barks to the boys still bowing in his direction. “Fine, you lot can train at Lotus Pier. But,” he snaps, raising a finger when cheers begin to echo within Wei Wuxian’s room. “There will be no funny business. At all. And you will train from dusk till dawn, no complaints. Anyone who can’t hold his sword by the end of the day, has to run laps.”

Four heads bob up and down and Wei Wuxian chuckles.

“Don’t worry, I know where all the best lotus roots are in Yunmeng,” he says, in a very loud whisper. “I’ll show you where to go.”

“Wei Wuxian! You are not coming to Lotus Pier to corrupt my disciples,” Jiang Cheng sputters, leveling his finger once more in his brother’s smirking face.

And Zizhen and JingYi immediately start to protest.

“Senior Wei has to come, Sect Leader Jiang! He had some moves I’ve never seen before!”

“Yeah! Sizhui said you two fought together almost as well as Senior Wei and Hangung-Jun fight together!”

“You both have to teach us those sword maneuvers! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

_“Please!”_

Jin Ling takes a step forward, glancing over his shoulder to where Wei Wuxian watches all of them with a soft expression in his eyes and he bites his lip before turning to face Jiang Cheng.

“Please, jiujiu?” he says, his voice soft. “Please, can Wei Wuxian come back to Lotus Pier and you two teach us some of your old tricks? Please?”

And Jiang Cheng sighs, his eyes closing as that old familiar voice once more murmurs along his subconscious.

_Give A-Xian a chance, A-Cheng. Please._

Jiang Cheng meets his brother’s gaze from across the room. Wei Wuxian simply shrugs, his expression somewhat guarded, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t miss the brief flash of eagerness in the other man’s eyes.

“Fine,” he snaps, crossing his arms across his chest. “If Hanguaung-Jun and the healers will let him leave Cloud Recesses then he can come to Lotus Pier and help me train you morons. That work for you lot?”

Cheers echo through the quiet halls of the infirmary and Jiang Cheng can’t help but smile as he meets his brother’s gaze once more from across the room.

Wei Wuxian, wrapped securely in his husband’s arms, simply nods, a small, bittersweet smile curling his lips as well.

Jiang Cheng nods back, the Golden Core in his chest stirring at the fierce tumble of emotions spilling through him and he presses his arms tight against his chest for a moment, drawing comfort from the Core’s warm glow.

 _Wei Wuxian is coming back to Lotus Pier,_ he thinks as he leaves his brother’s room, the teenagers’ voices still loud in the peaceful quiet.

_The Twin Prides will fight alongside each other once more._

The thought leaves the sweet taste of lotus seeds on the back of his tongue.

And Jiang Cheng smiles.


End file.
